Previous Addictions
by Rushi-Sama
Summary: Izaya is sick, and in an unlikely turn of events, Shizuo is the one to look after him. Little does he know that Shizuo's arrival will dig deep into his rocky past, and challenge his version of the future. Shizaya. Izaya's POV. M for smut, some violence and strong themes like depression and drug addiction. Language warning.
1. Chapter 1

A cough wheezes its way up my raw throat, and pushes past my dry, cracked lips, only to be followed by another, and another, and another - until I'm right down on my hands and knees in a coughing fit. The twist in my stomach says that it might turn into more - that I might actually throw up. I try to swallow my nausea just enough for the coughing to end.

I hate being sick.

Feeling sorry for myself, I suck in a deep breath of air that almost sets off the coughing again. My head throbs as I crawl back under the heavy down blankets on my bed.

It's not fair that this should be happening to me. I have so much to do. Too much work for my legs to go weak and my muscles to cramp every time I stand up to go and sit at my desktop. Forcing myself won't help either; I tried that earlier and all it got me was a good half hour of sitting over the toilet bowl, hurling my guts out.

This sucks.

I've taken my temperature four times today already, and it simply won't go down. The last time I checked it was even higher, actually, which is alarmingly high. The fever is making me feel achy and awful – it's probably responsible for the sharp cramps I feel every time I stand up or even roll over.

Maybe it's time to call a doctor.

Correction: maybe it's time to call _Shinra_.

It's funny how I have never even considered going to a normal doctor. Maybe it's just a bad habit now. At times, the reason for my avoiding hospitals like the bubonic plague was that checking myself in was like a one-way ticket to prison. However, now was not one of those times.

I was sticking with Shinra anyway.

I reach for one of my cell phones and press a button which causes it to flash to life. The light from the screen hurts my eyes, and I grit my teeth in pain. Luckily I know it well enough to find Shinra's number with little help from my eyes.

I hold the device to my ear and wait as patiently as I can for the dial tone to end and the ringing to begin. It seems like it takes hours for the cheerful doctor to answer, even though he picks up on the third ring, with my headache causing painful mini-explosions to go off behind my screwed-shut eyelids.

"Hello?"

"Shinra. It's Izaya." I wince at the sound of his voice, painfully close to my eardrum.

"Izaya. You sound awful."

"I feel awful."

"You should get down here then. What's wrong?"

I wonder if I have the energy (or the motivation) to drag my sorry excuse for an existence all the way to Shinra's apartment. Not really, but the thought of getting worse and not being able to go back to work anytime soon instils the smallest drop of determination in me.

"Splitting headache," I spit from behind clenched teeth. "Fever, muscle pain, vomiting."

A short pause.

"Sounds bad."

"Feels bad."

"You gonna be able to make it here?"

I briefly think about asking him to send Celty to fetch me, but quickly decide against it. It's no fun to watch her, or anyone for that matter, when I feel this bad. Part of the reason I like being around her is because of her fear of me, which is irrational really, seeing as _she's_ the headless one.

"Yeah. I'll be over in ten."

"See you now."

"Have painkillers ready," I growl and snap the phone shut.

God dammit, I _really_ hate being sick.

* * *

"Oh my god, you look terrible."

"Nice to see you too," I mumble and stalk into Shinra's apartment.

Well, maybe it's less of a stalk. The word 'stalk' implies the sort of grace that someone like a model possesses. On a normal day, I might be able to pull that kind of thing off, but today; I'm all hunched and stiff. It's not attractive at all.

"Just sit down on the couch there, I'll be back in a moment."

As Shinra rummages around in another room for his things, I look around the apartment. I'm not sure if you could consider me and Shinra 'friends' exactly, but his apartment was always one of the few places I know like the back of my hand.

I could describe to you the exact nature of the creak the door makes when you lean too heavily against it, having done so many times myself while in acute pain. I briefly wonder how many bloodstains Shinra and Celty have had to get out of this couch. I've certainly left a couple, and Shinra was always Shizuo's first choice when he gets injured in his many fights.

Shizuo. Thinking of the blond darkens my already sour mood. I suddenly want very desperately to blame some of my misfortune on him. I'm not going to however, because blaming all of one's life problems on someone with absolutely no justification as to why is _his_ job in our mutual-hate relationship.

The less like him I am, the _better_.

Shinra comes back and begins to examine me. He is thorough – doing all the things a normal doctor would do (checking the back of my throat, massaging my glands and feeling me up with a stethoscope, among other things) even though I know very well that his practice is not quite legitimate and slightly less than legal.

"You have some pretty nasty acid burns from throwing up," says Shinra.

"You're telling me," I grumble, still in a bad mood from thoughts of Shizuo. "I can feel them."

"When did this all start?" He inquires, scribbling something down on a clipboard. The problem with Shinra as opposed to a normal doctor is that I sometimes feel like more of a specimen than a patient to him. He always seems slightly _too_ interested in what's wrong with me, rather than how to make it go away.

"This morning," I say, remembering my frustration and my inability to work. "When I woke up around seven I wasn't feeling too good. It sorta went downhill from there."

"Well," he says, scribbling a final note down on his piece of paper, before looking up. "It's probably just a twenty-four hour thing that will go away with a few meds. I'll give you some anti-nausea pills for the vomiting, and some painkillers for the headaches. Those should also do away with the fever."

I rub my sore temples. Shinra's voice is always hell to anyone with a headache.

"Thanks."

I stand and stretch out my aching muscles while he fetches the appropriate medication. Twenty four hours. He'd better be right. There's no telling what I'll do if I can't get back to work soon. Worse still, there's no telling what some of my clients might do to _me_…

"Here you go," he says, walking down the hall to hand me the meds.

"I hope the painkillers are strong," I say, giving the small paper bag a sceptical look.

"Stronger than any legitimate doctor would give you for a fever and headache," he begins to turn away, knowing I will show myself out, but stops himself. "Oh, and Izaya?"

"Hmm?"

"Get some rest. You're only going to get worse if you try to overwork yourself."

I frown. He really does treat me like a friend sometimes. I'm bothered that anyone should know me this well. It's like I'm predictable.

I don't want to be predictable.

"Twenty four hours," I give him a warning look. "One day. I'm going to be pretty pissed off if I can't do some work first thing tomorrow morning."

Shinra sighs. He's used to this.

"Just feel better, ok?"

"Bye," I mumble, slamming the door on my way out.

Shinra shouldn't like me. I'm a horrible person. He agrees with me on that, hell, he even said so himself - a while ago on our first day of high school. I don't want to feel like I owe him anything, but it's hard to feel indifferent to him when I catch the concern that flits through his dark eyes.

It bothers me until I catch myself caring.

_Tch_.

I head home, planning on spending the rest of the day curled up under my blankets with a hot water bottle. These painkillers better work. And they'd better be strong. Shinra should know better than to mess with me, friends or not.

* * *

_A/N: Holidays = new story! Enjoy :)_


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up the next morning, I am slightly pissed off to find that my headache is still present, and a quick stretch of my limbs tells me I'm not what could be described as _better_ yet. In fact, one could still call me _sick_.

Despite this somewhat annoying discovery, I still have work to do, so I pop myself two painkillers. They hadn't worked as well as I'd hoped they would, so I'm doubling the dose. I thought Shinra said they were supposed to be _strong_.

Hoping to wake myself up, I splash my face with some cold water and pull on some clothes. No time for a shower – I'm a busy man, and I have places to be today. Looking towards the kitchen makes my stomach pinch uncomfortably, so I decide that I will skip breakfast as well. There's no point in eating if the food is just going to end up all over my shoes in a couple of hours. With these thoughts on my mind, I pocket my anti-nausea pills and lock the front door behind me.

Cool September air sneaks into my collar as I leave the building, so I shrug my jacket closer around my neck. The days have started to cool off lately, marking this year's transition to winter. The cold is not doing anything good for my nausea. I ignore it as best I can and walk on, trying to convince myself that all I need to do to feel better is stretch my limbs and get out a bit. My mood brightens at the prospect of seeing some of my lovely humans today.

Really, Shinra has me all wrong. Lying in bed all day and drawing my curtains on all the usual hustle and bustle of the people on the streets would never even start to make me feel as good as I do now. The prospect of seeing them, hurrying by, so tightly wrapped up in their own little lives that they barely spare me a glance, excites me in ways I can't explain.

Oh, how I love humans. I just really, really, _love_ them.

* * *

My headache starts up again very early on in my walk, despite the excess painkillers I took, and the crowded streets don't seem nearly as enticing anymore. The pain hotwires through my mind and kills off almost _all_ of my coordination. I stumble a couple of times, and my beloved humans just jostle me around and throw me dirty looks. Quite the opposite of the adoring stares I had hoped for. Honestly – I can't understand what made these streets so alluring to me in the first place.

By the time I reach Ikebukuro, I can't even remember why I came.

I walk around a block once, trying to remember why I'm here, the headache playing havoc with my train of thought, before giving up completely and deciding to go home. Turning to walk back to Shinjuku, I feel my empty stomach lurch sickeningly, and I lean against the nearest building for a moment to catch my breath and prevent myself from falling to my knees and dry-wretching in front of everyone on the pavement.

It would never do for my lovely humans to see Izaya Orihara so weak and vulnerable.

I straighten when I feel slightly better, and step towards the street to hail a cab. There's no way I'll make it back to my place on foot. I'll just get into a cab, and go straight to Shinra's to get some better painkillers, and to rub the fact that he was wrong in his face a bit. I'm pissed off with him already. He'd better give me some super-strong painkillers that actually work this time.

I'm about to hail a cab when-

"**IZAYA**!"

Sigh.

I turn just in time to see a vending machine flying at full-speed towards me, and I duck to the side to avoid it. Shizuo's timing could not be worse. I mean; I'm always up for a fight with him. Always ready, at any given moment of the day, on every single day of the year. Except one day.

And that's today.

I'd love to fight him - I just can't do it with my stomach lurching and the kind of pain in my head that white-outs my vision. The odds against me are already quite unfair in a fight against Shizuo on a normal day. This kind of handicap is sure to get me killed.

"Ahh, Shizu-chan," I greet the enraged blonde calmly. I'm not about to let this guy see me weak.

"How many times," He growls from between clenched teeth, taking a menacing step towards me. "Do I have to tell you to-"

"Stay out of Ikebukuro," I finish for him. Maybe it's the headache and the nausea talking, but today, something about him just pisses me off. And not in the pissed-off-but-kind-of-amused-so-I'll-stay-and-kic k-your-ass kind of way. Genuinely pissed off. "I know. I was just leaving."

"I can help you with leaving by killing you!" He takes several more steps forward and I wrap my hand securely around the switch blade in my pocket, trying my best not to point out his flawed logic. I don't really feel like getting into a fight today, but it doesn't look like he's going to give me much choice.

"I'm actually not really in the mood for this today," I try not to snap, as my headache grows unbearable, making me snippy. Are there no cabs in this entire city? "So I'll be going if you don't mind."

"Not before I kick your ass."

My patience has just about run out when a cab pulls up next to me. Shizuo actually has no right to tell me to leave. I mean, it's not as if he owns the city or anything, and he's the one person who's caused the most damage to it. Yeah, sure, I may have provoked him (a lot), but my methods of fighting are far more… _tidy_ than his.

I'm about to open the car door and get in when my body is whipped up into the air and slammed against the wall of the nearest building. My vision blacks out for a second and I feel a painful vibration begin to ripple through my entire body, emanating from the tender point at the back of my skull that the blonde idiot has just thrust against the wall.

Almost immediately, my headache comes back tenfold. The pain, which is positively unbearable as it is, is accompanied by sudden nausea, and clutching desperately at my stomach is all I can do not to throw up there and then.

The high-pitched whine of a horse accompanied by the screech of tires creates a sensation that I can only imagine possible to replicate by taking an electric drill to my skull. I crack one eye open enough to see Celty scrambling towards Shizuo, her PDA already held out to show him what she has to say.

"Huh?" he says, sounding like the idiot he is. Her presence seems to calm him a little, which is quite something considering that the mere sight of me is sometimes enough for him to take out several blocks worth of street signs and vending machines.

She types something else and shows him.

"I don't care if he's sick! He deserves to have his ass kicked!"

Celty however, has shifted her attention to me. She approaches me carefully, and I know she's still somewhat afraid of me. Her PDA fills my fuzzy vision, the bright light stinging my eyes. I suppress a groan.

_[Can you stand?]_

I'm not sure, but I nod anyway, desperate to find out and leave as soon as possible. Hurriedly scrambling to my knees, I know it's only a matter of seconds (minutes, if I'm particularly lucky) before Shizuo's new-found calm wears off. Celty offers a hand, but I use the building to get up instead.

Again, she shows me her PDA.

_[Do you need a ride to Shinra's?]_

"I have a cab," I say, allowing myself a second to catch my breath and make sure that the cab is still, in fact, there. If I were the driver I wouldn't want anybody who attracted attention of the likes of Shizuo in my car. However the man is still waiting, waiting for me to pull my bloodied and broken self into the back seat.

She nods.

"Do you really believe this guy?" Shizuo asks Celty.

Celty just looks uncertain, caught between what Shinra has told her and what her friend insinuates.

"It's obvious he's faking it. He's probably planning some shit again."

"As much as I'd love to stay and play," I say snarkily, as I drag myself back towards the cab. "I'm actually not feeling very well today. And thanks to you, I feel even worse. Thank you very much Shizu-chan."

I slam the door once I'm in and tell the driver Shinra's address. The man at the wheel looks terrified, though I can't say I blame him.

He'd better drive fast or I'm going to throw up in his car.

* * *

_A/N: Well, I'm supposed to be asleep. But obviously, I'm giving you another chapter instead (is a rebel)._


	3. Chapter 3

"You were wrong, Shinra. I feel worse than yesterday," I complain to the doctor as I pull a bucket closer to my feet. The nausea has gotten much worse since yesterday. I should just throw up on his couch.

"Did you take the meds I gave you?"

"Yeah," I say, lying down. "The painkillers did shit."

"Hmm," he says, sounding somewhat distracted. His thoughts seem elsewhere today. "Strange."

"You'd better give me some better painkillers," I growl. My head _fucking_ hurts, to phrase it as eloquently as possible. "That actually work."

"Yeah," says Shinra, looking thoughtful. "You need to get some rest though Izaya. It's the only thing that's going to make you better."

"How long, exactly?" I question him suspiciously as he produces a new bottle of pills and places them on the coffee table before me.

"I'm not sure. A week maybe. Two?" He writes something else down, but still looks slightly distracted.

I can't believe I'm hearing this. No work for two weeks? This just _cannot_ be happening to me.

"I can't just not work for two weeks!"

"Izaya, please," Shinra says, finally seeming to actually focus on me. "You just need to get a good week of rest."

My only response is an exasperated sigh.

"Seriously," he presses on. "You have to take a little time off. I would come to check up on you, but Celty and I are going to be away for a while."

He takes on a stupid dreamy sort of a look that fools in love usually wear. So _this_ is why he's been so detached.

"I'm not a kid, Shinra," I sigh. "I'll work if I deem myself fit."

"I guess I'll have to find someone to check up on you for me," The doctor fixes me with one of those won't-take-no-for-an-answer kind of looks.

I'm about to protest when the front door swings open and Celty walks in followed by Shizuo. There is a short awkward silence before the blonde idiot realises what's going on.

"What are you doing here?" He sounds outraged, as if I have no right to be here, in a building that he has absolutely no right of ownership to, and is quite removed from our normal battleground on the streets below. I glare right back at him. This apartment is fair ground.

Can he really be this stupid? He knows that I also go to Shinra when I'm hurt or sick and what's more, Celty already told him I was ill. Is it necessary that he ask?

"As Celty told you earlier," I snap, sitting up. "I'm sick."

Shizuo snorts as I stand up and pocket the pills Shinra has given me.

"I'm not buying that shit, flea."

I'm so sick and tired of him always suspecting I'm up to something. I know I usually am, but today my head hurts so fucking much that it's quite a feat to be here and away from the warmth and safety of my bed. Whether or not I tried, I wouldn't even be able to _remember_ any elaborate plans I had before this fever struck, let alone actually _execute_ them.

"Whether or not you believe me," I say as I head for the front door. I pray to god that for once he will just let me past without any violence. I'm sore enough already god dammit. "It's true. Now if you'll excuse me-"

Then several things happening at once stop me from finishing my sentence. First of all, Shizuo lunges out and tries to punch me, although he is quickly intercepted by Celty who slams into his side, tipping him off balance and away from me. Quite a noble effort, I have to say, for someone of such a slim build.

I'd like to thank her, to make up some witty, on-the-spot compliment that at the same time serves as an insult to Shizuo. However, I am stopped from uttering any such words, as the splitting pain tearing through my cranium becomes too much for me, and my main point of concern is shifted from both Shizuo and Celty, and on to the way my knees suddenly buckle under my own weight, and my legs give out beneath me.

As I slide to an unceremonious heap against Shinra's living room wall, it occurs to me that whatever has just happened is bad. I'd like to say I did something as poetic as collapsing, but that would be too inaccurate. The word I would in fact choose to describe the motion of my actions, is slumping

My head hurts. So. Fucking. Much.

"Izaya? Izaya!" The doctor calls my name, first questioningly, then in alarm.

I feel a pair of hands on me; fussing over my head and on my upper arms. Two pairs now, which means Celty has been able to get Shizuo under control.

I catch myself groaning in pain, and my eyes snap open. Immediately, they settle on Shizuo, who is just staring at me, unsure of what to say. It's like all that rage from a minute ago has melted into thin air.

I feel pathetic under his scrutiny. Collapsing because of a headache and then groaning in pain? I feel like nothing. I feel like _less_ than nothing.

"Izaya, are you alright?" Shinra really sounds frantic now.

"Um, yeah," I say, my hand flying up to my sore head to massage the bruised spot where Shizuo slammed me into the wall earlier. I feel my gaze reluctantly pull back to him, and I see a flicker of realisation there. He almost looks guilty, and I don't like it.

Because it's wrong. So, _so_ very wrong.

"I think you should stay here for a while Izaya," Shinra suggests.

"What?" I mumble. "No! Let me go back home!"

"Izaya, you collapsed!"

"I did not collapse, I fell," I lie. "I tripped over your stupid table."

"Mm-hmm," he sounds sceptical.

With Shinra and Celty's help, I manage to less-than-gracefully haul myself up. The room spins and my eyes swim for a moment, but gravity doesn't pull me to the ground this time, and for that, I am glad.

"I'm going home," I say. "You can't stop me."

"To do what?" Shinra wants to know. "Work yourself sicker?"

"Will you stop hounding me if I promise to rest for a while?"

"A week, Izaya," Shinra warns. "Maybe two. And I'll have to find someone to check on you while we're away."

"What's wrong with Namie?"

"She hates you. She doesn't care enough about your health to stop you from working."

"Fine," I huff, giving in. He has a point about Namie. I didn't realise he knew her so well.

"Let Celty give you a lift back," he says. "You're not well enough to walk."

I follow the headless woman out of the building with a short goodbye to Shinra and not a second glance at Shizuo. Stupid protozoan.

It's only much later, when I'm curled up in bed with my hot water bottle again, that my phone's erratic vibrations pull me out of a dozy half-sleep. There is a new message from Shinra.

_Don't kill me, but we convinced Shizuo to check up on you. Expect him sometime tomorrow morning. Shinra._

Oh joy.

Suddenly enraged, I throw the slim phone against the opposite wall of my bedroom, where it breaks into two pieces and slides to the floor in much the same way I did earlier at Shinra's house.

* * *

_A/N: Changed my mind. Not discontinued after all. Just... don't expect another update for, like, ever._


	4. Chapter 4

The next day I wake up feeling worse, so I take another painkiller. Admittedly, these ones work much better than the last ones Shinra gave me. Feeling sick, I crawl back beneath my blankets, ready to slip back into hibernation.

About an hour later at eight thirty, there's a knock at the door which forces me to get up and pad barefoot through the apartment. I'm half-asleep, so it's no wonder I forget about the events of yesterday, and I can't figure out who it is.

I'm pretty sure Namie wouldn't waste her time off on visiting me.

The person knocks again, more violently, obviously growing more impatient as I turn the key in the lock of my front door. The door swings open to reveal Shizuo.

He looks so out of place here, at my front door. It's not that he's never been here before; he's been here loads of times, trying to kill me. But he's never tried to keep his cool, he's never knocked at my door (only knocked it down). He's still wearing that stupid bartender's outfit, I note.

Wordlessly, I step aside and let him into my apartment. I hope he does whatever Shinra has instructed him to do quickly. It will make this whole experience less unpleasant for both of us.

He steps inside and looks around awkwardly, looking as if he would rather be anywhere but standing inside my apartment right now, and he probably does. I can't say I blame him, wishing myself to be a million miles away from him too.

"Shinra says to drink a lot," is the line he chooses to break the tense silence with. I raise an eyebrow at this piece of trivia that I have known since second-grade. Really, and idiot would know that.

I note that his hands are balled up into fists at his sides. It's really taking all of him not to lose it and get angry, even though I haven't even said anything yet.

"Okay," I say, wondering how Shinra managed to get him to agree to this in the first place.

He rummages in his pockets and offers me a bottle of my painkillers. At least he has done something useful.

"For when you run out," he clarifies. "He said that him and Celty are leaving tomorrow and they won't be around to give you any more."

"Thanks," I say, taking the pills and trying not to think about how strange it is for me to be thanking him. This all feels so surreal. In a bad way.

There is another awkward silence, the kind that I'm sure the next couple of weeks will be full of. Why hasn't he left yet? Surely he should jump at the first opportunity to leave?

"Okay," I say, breaking the silence. "I'll admit I'm curious. How did they manage to get you to agree to this?"

"Celty asked me," he grimaces. "I can't say no to her. And they also said that you collapsing could have been my fault, you know, 'cause I hit you."

"Don't I know it." I say sarcastically, feeling a slight pang from the painful lump on my head, probably triggered from the memory of how I got it.

"I felt kind of guilty."

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"I know you don't believe me, but for what it's worth, I'm not a bad person," he sighs. "At least, not when I'm not fighting you."

I turn away, uninterested. I don't want to see this version of Shizuo; the version where he is calm. The version where he might actually be the good guy. I want our relationship to stay as poisonous and rocky as it usually is, and that can only happen if we don't show any sliver of remorse for our actions.

"You can leave now," I say coldly. I have every intention of doing some work once the painkiller kicks in, and I don't need Shizuo to call up Celty and tell her. I'd never get Shinra off my back.

"Well," he says, slightly defensively. "I promised Celty I'd stick around for at least half an hour."

"I'm not going to tell her you left."

"I can't lie to her," he admits, looking slightly ashamed. Hmm. He seems to have a soft spot for the Dullahan.

"Okay, stick around for as long as you want," I turn towards the kitchen to get myself something to drink. No food yet though, according to my churning stomach. "But I'm going to do some work."

A strong hand on my arm stops me in my tracks. I turn to face him.

"No you're not."

"Shizu-chan," I warn.

"I promised Celty I'd look after you," he says, and I can see him grit his teeth. It's probably all he can do not to rip my head off. "And she said I wasn't supposed to let you work for at least a week."

I just stare at him. Is he serious? He's going to stop me from working? Could he make my life any worse?

I rip my arm angrily out of his hold.

"Why do you even care?"

"I don't," he growls, his patience with me growing thinner with every passing second. "It's not you. I promised Celty-"

"Yeah I know. Fine. Stay. Do whatever you want." I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation, and head towards the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. "Just don't talk to me."

He follows me into the kitchen. His presence is driving me crazy.

"Have you eaten?" Is what he wants to know next, completely ignoring my previous instruction of not talking to me.

"Celty can't be that insistent."

He raises an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"No I haven't eaten," I sigh, suddenly tired. I'm not about to eat anything, no matter how much Shizuo bitches. I'll probably puke all over his shoes. The thought almost makes me smile, until I remember that I would be as good as a dead man then.

"Celty said-"

"I quite honestly don't care what Celty said," I'm starting to sound fed up, and I am. "I'm not going to eat anything."

"Izaya," his tone is warning. "I'm not doing this because I want to. Do _not_ make me force feed you." He grips the counter hard, and I frown when I notice it starts to crack. I don't point it out however, because that would lead to the destruction of more of my furniture. Or maybe even my head.

I can tell by the disgusted look on his face and the way he practically spits out the last sentence that he's as averse to the idea as I am.

"Seriously, Shizu-chan," I sigh again. "I feel nauseas as hell. Whatever I eat is just going to come straight up again."

"But Celty-"

"Celty didn't know how nauseas I would be!"

A pause. He actually considers my words. Amazing.

"I guess I can leave it for now," he grumbles. "Eat something when you feel slightly better."

The fact that he is in _my_ apartment, telling _me_ what to do and treating _me_ like an unruly child bothers me so much, that I actually want to call the police to have him thrown out. I don't though, partly because I don't think the police would be any use against him, and partly because I don't think it's a particularly good idea to have them in my apartment. There are plenty of things in here that could get me locked up for life.

I get myself a glass of water and don't offer Shizuo anything on purpose. I hope he gets the message that I really don't want him here.

He follows me into the living room where I flick on my TV. I derive some satisfaction that it must cost more than he makes in a year. By the way he is staring at it, I think he realises this too.

"So do you know where they went?" I ask Shizuo as he sits gingerly on the edge of my couch. I contemplate how weird the concepts of 'Shizuo' and 'gingerly' sound together, before even adding 'my couch'.

"Huh?"

"Shinra and Celty," I say, as I reach for one of my cell phones (not the one I broke last night) lying on the coffee table. "You know where they went?"

"Umm, no," he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Shinra said something about it being a secret, so nobody who was dying could interrupt them."

Yes. That _does_ sound like Shinra, and I catch myself smiling a little at the way Shizuo has obviously quoted his words directly. I catch myself though, before he can notice. I catch myself before I can begin to get used to Shizuo, get used to actually _smiling_ at his comments. I glance over at him. He is placidly watching TV, some show about gardening, the woman onscreen animatedly talking about roses and smiling at the camera.

It's such an ordinary situation to be in. If anybody was looking at us right now – who _didn't_ live in Ikebukuro – we would just look like a couple of friends hanging out in my living room. He looks so calm, so _not_ like a monster, that I find myself growing even more annoyed with him, even when he's not doing _anything_.

Because this peacefulness is a lie. A simple lie.

"You're not working are you?" he asks suspiciously as I type away on the cell phone.

"No," I lie. "Just sending a message."

We sit in silence for the next ten minutes. I continue to type up some important messages on my cell phone, though I would much prefer to be sitting at my computer, seated in my comfortable spinny chair, while he channel surfs on my TV.

The atmosphere in the room is so much more comfortable than I would have expected. Than I would have liked.

"Izaya?" he says after a while.

"Yeah?"

"Can we try to get along for the next couple weeks?"

I look at him. He blushes slightly. Wait, wha-

"I-I mean," he stammers slightly, trying to cover his embarrassment. "I've decided I'm going to do this thing for Shinra and Celty, and I promised to do it right. It would make it easier for both of us if we tried not to kill each other, ne?"

I pause, taking a deep breath. It's rather a large request.

"I'll try to tolerate you."

And for the first time, I see the hint of a smile play across Shizuo's face. Not a smirk – a real smile. Like I have just done something wonderful for him.

It's beautiful.

I hate it.


End file.
